


Lover

by Wingstar102



Category: NCIS
Genre: Dream Hijinks, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Muse Is Strange, No Idea Where This Came From, Possible Dream Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-04
Updated: 2012-09-04
Packaged: 2017-11-13 13:23:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/503976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wingstar102/pseuds/Wingstar102
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oh, you must be dreaming...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lover

Tim wasn't really sure what woke him. The apartment was a yawning black hole at this time of night… _morning?_ … and he didn't hear anything that sounded out of place. Shaking his head, he shifted on his bed to lay on his side and froze as the barest bit of light leaking through his curtains gave him a glimpse of blue eyes.

The shadow of a man moved closer, a glint of gold flashing at the belt… _a badge?_ … the sound of heavy coat fabric and the muffled scrap-slide of jeans, heavily calloused fingertips ghosting across his face. For some reason, Tim couldn't raise his voice above a murmur when he asked, "Who the hell _are_ you?"

Those fingers moved over his lips to silence him, warm and gentle, and wondered for a moment _why_ he hadn't reached for his gun yet. Something about the presence of this man, and it had to be a man because no woman's hands were that calloused, was so familiar and unthreatening. Well, his weapon was still on the night stand and in easy reach, so he decided to play it out and see. "What can I do for you?"

Shadows shifted around as the man straightened just enough to remove, what Tim assumed was, the coat and shoes before Tim's bed dipped under the man's weight. A hand drifting to the back of his neck, pulling him for a slow, determined kiss. Tim allowed it, odd as it was, but gasped when the man's other hand ghosted under the hem of his tee and rested it solidly against his waist. Surprised himself when he slid his own hands under the man's heavy cotton shirt, skimming up the sides, curiosity kicking in as he encountered a couple of long and broad scars along the ribs.

It suddenly didn't really matter once the man started breathing kisses down Tim's neck and pausing to pull Tim's shirt off, before continuing down his chest. Taking his time to ease Tim into laying back on the bed. Gasping again as the man flung back the comforter that had pooled around his hips and sliding his boxers off slowly, brushing past Tim's half hard cock.

A barely heard chuckle as the man stood and stripped, quick and efficient by the sound of things, and then he was laying on Tim, solid, real, strong, cock hard as stone. Grinding their hips together and rubbing his face softly against Tim's face and neck and chest, kissing, nipping, breathing hot on Tim's skin before working his way back down. Nuzzling the coarse hair around the base of him. The lapping strokes of a broad and demanding tongue over his scorching, hard flesh had Tim panting and fisting his hands in the sheets. The same question half-heartedly running through the back of his mind: _Why haven't I stopped this yet?_

The muffled sound of a click and a moment later, a slick finger carefully pushing inside him. Surprise at such an intimate intrusion had him backing up against the headboard. "Wait, I-" A mouth over his cutting off the rest of his protest, the "Please?" as the man pulled back a little was so quiet, it was almost sub-vocal, making the voice unrecognizable. Something about the way it was said set off the familiar/unfamiliar feeling again and his instincts _told_ him there was nothing to fear. He was hesitant still, even as he carefully reached into the darkness, fingers finally touching the man's face and sliding it so he could feel the man's strong jaw cradled in his palm. Guiding the man down into a hungry kiss.

Then Tim really started to work his hips in counterpoint to the, now two, fingers thrusting into him, his hands petting and stroking the tough, weathered skin of the man's chest. Was almost distracted by the feeling of scars that littered the man. _Almost_.

Still, he was breathless and on fire when the third finger slipped into him. The man was also, rubbing up against Tim, trading off between devouring kisses and breathing hard in the crook of Tim's exposed neck and shoulders. But that didn't last long. At some unknown signal, the fingers pulled out and then he was being carefully rolled and guided onto his hands and knees. A powerful hand running up and down Tim's back as the man buried himself in Tim to the hilt. Giving either of them barely a pause for breath before he was thrusting, balls deep in long, smooth strokes. Tim hung his head, groaning, gasping as that pounding cock began brushing against that sweet spot of nerves. The hands on his hips grounding him and comforting.

But Tim really couldn't help but crave more skin. Jerking himself to his knees, settling into the man's lap and blindly grasping for, what felt to be, slim hips, keeping them close. An arm wrapping around Tim's chest, an anchor and a hand fisting around his aching cock. They barely broke stride and Tim could feel his orgasm closing in as they thrust and ground and bucked together.

The moment before he came was something Tim didn't think he'd ever forgot. The hard body behind him, riding him as if it was the last thing the man would ever do, hot and vibrating, grunting with every movement. Completely encompassed by him, the feel of him, the smell of him, the kisses that consumed him in body _and_ soul. Tim himself, blazing hot and wanton, every nerve ending begging for more and working himself ruthlessly on the man's unbelievably hard cock.

 _So close…_ Hardly recognized his own voice when he asked, _"Please?"_ A tight chuckle… _Boss?_ … a tighter squeeze to the rigid flesh trapped in the man's hand-

~~~

Tim jerked himself awake without realizing it, brain fracturing as his orgasm swept him up and dropped him smack in the middle of reality. He wasn't quite sure why the _hell_ he was having a wet dream after so long. Didn't matter, he decided as he stripped himself out of his sweat and semen dampened tee and boxers, and crawled back into bed. Asleep again before his head hit the pillow.

~~~

Satisfied, content and sore as he was through the next day, processing a scene late in the afternoon with the team, he couldn't really remember much of his dream the night before. Just bits and pieces. Until, talking to Gibbs, a bit of sunlight made his boss' bright blue eyes light up. Almost dropped his kit as he realized _exactly_ who he dreamed of last night.

…He was so dead.


End file.
